Pastor and Mrs West were both doing their typical Tuesday evening thing, over at the church.

He was studying in the Pastoral office, while his wife was either, two doors down, doing some paperwork or playing the piano - parents of seven, ages 12 to 21, they neither had the space, nor funds, for a regular, let alone, a grand, piano.  But it was all good.  Tuesday evenings, for the couple, was a quiet few hours retreat.  

Pastor's cell rang.  "Pastor, you at the church?"  West, could tell, in Deacon Charlie's voice, something was very off.  Pastor's hunch was confirmed, by the deacon's next statement.  Several other deacons would be on their way.

Great!  Pastor's plans for a quiet some two hours, thwarted.  Sheesh!  What now?  Yeah, yeah, that pot hole near the entrance needed fixed.  What was up with people anyway?  Making a big stink, over a stupid little pot hole, while their missionaries needed ... necessary stuff ... tap-tap-tap, hullo?  Our heroically outspoken pastor, was getting hot under the collar, and getting too near to using certain un-preacherlike words.

Some moments later, several deacons filed in, with grave looks upon their faces.  One looked just plain disappointed, but the big one, looked angry.  The first one handed Pastor an opened laptop.

Great!  Pastor's jaw dropped.  "I didn't think..."

"Evidently not..." big guy looked angrier.

"She'll be mortified...shoulda used my head..." Pastor mumbled.  

"Evidently, the wrong one"  The wrong place, wrong time quip slipped out, and was promptly met with a "CAN IT, SMITTY!"

"Ugh, she'll have to see this."  Pastor stared at the screen; the license number, unmistakable.

"Yeah, sooner or later."

"Sooner."  Pastor sighed.  "My wife is down the hall."  Pastor, then added, "Two or three witnesses; this will be hard enough on her."  He addressed the five or six men.  

Several moments later.

"Honey, it wasn't like you were there all by yourself." Her eyes met his.  She then stared at the pic.  "I wasn't exactly using my noggin either."  

One of the two or three witnesses present, scratched his head.  Okay, he wasn't the brightest around ... took him a minute to figure out who had been with the Pastor, in Room #7.

One of the other witnesses spoke up.  And he wasn't happy.  "Next time you two love birds decide to fly off somewhere, find a better sort of nest!"  He then about halfway stormed out, grumbling about missing some "basketball game, for ... this."